More From the Poetry Notebook

I have a book that I use for poetry exercises.  One exercise asked for me to write down my 100 favorite words, and then compose a short poem using some of those words.  Here are my words, and my verse.  I did this probably close to seven years ago.

100 Favorite Words
opera, aria, cat, nap, diva, rose, thorn, verdure, note, finch,teapot, golden, aged, vintage, susurration, claxon, locomotive, envelope, Celtic, stench, inertia, Baroque, dominion, dog, bark, growl, spurious, apostle, gaudy, garish, tawdry, recede, Autumn, Winter, Summer, Spring, sing, you, me, husband, life, felicitous, book, writing, candle, chocolate, volume, tome, panorama, cardinal, blackbird, starling, sparrow, grackle, cowbird, fog, thunder, cozy, coffee, tea, charity, tree, clay, adobe, avocado, strawberry, apricot, potato, apple, forest, trail, smoke, horse,  imagination, autonomy, solitude, rest, grandeur, scent, somnolence, wine, grape, vine, friend, convivial, antics, familiar, comfortable, stationery, pen, ink, hue, color, azure, cobalt, emerald, scarlet, cream.

Springtime Aria
Birdsong and rain
Blackbird, Starling,
Cardinal, Grackle
Thunder crackle.
Lightning's spark
Dogs bark
Inside cozy
Cheeks rosy
Watch for signs
Of verdure and vines
Scent of rose
Somnolent cat adoze.

These were true impressions of Springtime in Oklahoma.  Early spring is often a mix of chilly days and humid, warm ones, beautiful sunlight, and dreary greyness.  The day of the Murrah Bombing was one of the beautiful, sunny, magical looking ones.  Then it turned to a nightmare.  The next several days were as dreary as our spirits.  Spring always brings hope and the hint of danger here.  If not madmen with explosives, then thunderstorms intent upon eating our homes.  The transitional seasons are always a duality.

I wrote poems about that spring.  Most of them deal with my church and our recovery from damage.  I believe I have posted some before, if not here, then on my Facebook page.  Since this is going out in a hurry, I will find and post those another day.

I haven't found the 1995 poems yet.  Here are some more bits I wrote for exercises.  Some I think are pretty funny.
Song stuck inside my head
Not even one I sing
Wish I could banish it
Before I dread
The very thought of it.

A blank page.
So much potential.
So much fear
Room for joyful rambling
Or clouds of stormy rage
A missed opportunity
If you leave it blank
Risks must be taken
To reap rewards
Brought by poetry.

Still Winter clings to the land.
Its dry, brittle claws rending our skin,
Shredding the plants which try to grow.
Like some old hag, or some nearly extinct animal,
The Cold Season holds stubbornly to old ways
Rather than warming to the new.
So March roars in like a cranky, cold, old lion.

A poem to try out a verse form.  Using the subject that was most on my mind at that time:

Because I'm sick
I'm coughing and sneezing
Because I'm sick
I'm croaking and wheezing
Because I'm sick
My voice is scratchy and cracks
Because I'm sick
My eyes feel like they're in burlap sacks
Because I'm sick
My very soul has a sting
Because I'm sick
So I can't sing.